The Elf Behind The Queen
by LoveChilde
Summary: Mainly Celeborn's story, right after the War of the Ring. How do the Eldar deal with the events that followed?
1. Celeborn Speaks: Lothlorien

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The Elf Behind The Queen

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1 Celeborn Speaks- Lothlorien

(A/N: Hi! I'm LoveChilde, and this is my first Tolkien based fic. All characters and most events belong to the great Master- you'll notice it when I branch off to do my own thing. 

For the sake of this story, assume: 1. Celeborn is not a cactus. 2. Elves have a personality. 3. In their private forests they act a bit differently than they do in mixed company. Also, I'd love to do as certain other writers do and insert lovely bits of elvish words in, but I've only done it once so far for the simple reason that they're _constantly speaking Sindarin_, 'kay? It's like English to them.

Dedicated to Joannie Milligan, my beta, and to Nemis who inspired me so many times.) 

I have seen many things in my long, long life. Even for an elf I am considered aged, older than most left on this Earth. I have seen cities ruined, brother fighting brother, Gods and beasts and elves and men. But I feel that this will be something new, even for me. There is a tension in the air almost thick enough to cut through, and my wife, my beloved, sits on her throne in a trance while I wait for her to tell me the news of the world outside.

The battle is almost over, yet hardly begun at all. All our hope rests on a single _perian_, a halfling almost untried in war and strife. Still, so it has been prophesized.

I pace around the throne room, glad that no one is here to witness my agitation. My wife has sent them all away, claiming that she needed to concentrate. I am grateful to have been allowed to stay. She can be rather trying at times, my Lady. I can sense her pain, her anxiety and inner turmoil through our bond, and silently step closer to her, my hand hovering over her shoulder so as to lend her strength without disturbing.

As I wait, I muse upon the nature of our relationship. I know that many think we have grown cold towards each other over the millennia, and are alike to two marble statues, devoid of emotion. Let me assure you that it is not so. Our love is deep still, after all this time, too deep to be described in words- our bond is too strong to be shared with others. Each of us is constantly aware of the other's love, and so we need not display our emotions in public. Her current pain tears at my soul.

My contemplation is cut short by a spike of pure agony, and we both cry out in pain and alarm. It is like nothing I have ever felt, yet but a shadow of her own, for she, in her anguish, did transfer some of it onto me. I raise my head to look at her, and she seems somehow different. Not as radiant as before, perhaps, or as vital, but still the Queen. I do not need to ask, but do so anyway.

"It is over, is it not?" I feel almost rude in breaking the silence. She nods weakly.

"It is, my husband, and over well. The One Ring is destroyed, and the Shadow has been lifted. The Dark One has perished. The halfling is triumphant". She lowers her head, looking at the jewel I can now perceive on her finger. It is indeed the Ring of Adamant, but its light has grown dim, and the very fact that it is visible tells me that most of its power is gone. The room around us feels different as well. Could the power of the One have been this strong?

"Aye, the halfling has defeated the Dark Lord, but the war is not yet over." I reply. "His minions walk the land, and must be overcome, although their power is diminished. We are still under attack, and must defend ourselves." Thrice have we been attacked, and thrice have our warriors stopped the attackers and destroyed them. Now, for the first time since the Second Age, elves would march to attack, in defense of our own home. I notice that my wife looks pale, her beautiful skin ashen, and hasten to her side. "What is the matter, beloved?" I ask.

"It is nothing, my Lord." She replies quietly, but I can still feel her sadness and despair, and understand them not. 'I will be well shortly." She tries to rise, but stumbles and falls back, and I instinctively catch her. She is trembling, and I deem it worth the risk to hug her, settling back on the throne with her in my arms. 

"Please, my Lady, tell me what ails you," I beg her, angry that I cannot sense her thoughts more deeply, 'I do not understand."

"The Ring, Celeborn." She whispers, "I cannot feel its power any more, nor any of the others. The power is gone. It is," She hesitates, "disorienting. I am in truth diminished."

I have not seen her this unsettled since our daughter went West, perhaps earlier. She buries her face in my robe, shivering like spring leaves in the wind. "Nay, my wife." I tell her, hugging her close to me, "You were mighty before the Three were forged, and shall ever be so, even now. You will adjust to life without that burden. Believe in your strength as I believe in it." I see that she is not comforted, and try something I have not tried in many ages, not since our first days together. 'I love you, _Altariel_."

Her head snaps up at the sound of her High Elven name, and she stares at, me her eyes bright with tears. "No one has called me that in so long…Oh husband, I know not what to do!" She lays her head down again and weeps.

I am at a loss for a moment. Not since the ruin of Doriath have I seen my wife cry. Instinct again takes over, and I stroke her a murmur soothing words until her tears run out. I manage to find an embroidered handkerchief in my pocket, and offer it to her. She takes it and squeezes my hand shakily.

"I am well now, Celeborn. Let us tell our people the news." She is herself again, Galadriel, Queen of the Galadhrim. Again she becomes the Lady of Lorien, the closest thing the Elves of Middle Earth have to a leader. Her leadership is needed now. Later, when things have calmed down, she will be my wife again. I rise and help her up. She takes a deep breath and leads the way out. Regal and graceful, we make our way hand in hand to the main court and greet the awaiting crowd. As my Lady tells them of the victory, I hope I am the only one who notices her voice is not always steady. I squeeze her hand, and she returns the gesture with a smile. I try to smile but find that I cannot. My wife, my land, our lives are forever changed.

A victory indeed, but at what price to my love?


	2. DolGoldur, part 1

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2 Dol-Goldur

(A/N: My dear, dear readers, if there are any left, I'm finally updating! This chapter came out rather long, so I've split it into two parts, meant to be read together. Standard disclaimer applies- all characters belong to Master Tolkien, the situations, mostly, to me. Thanks, as always, to my betas Tom and Joannie, and to Nemis, Finch and Deborah for inspiring me. I'm using several of their fics as reference to history- see if you can spot them! Official thanks will come with the next chapter, hopefully soon. Enjoy.)

The army of Lorien prepared to march on Dol Goldur. In their private chambers on top of the oldest _mallorn_ in the forest, Celeborn and Galadriel prepared to join them. Celeborn frowned at his wife.

"There is no way for me to convince you to stay, is there?"

"My Lord, you know that I must join you." She replied sweetly.

" Don't 'my Lord' me, Galadriel. There is no need for you to risk yourself in battle. Come after we have defeated them." Celeborn sighed, shrugging into his mithril mail shirt. His wife gave him a reproving look.

"I can fight almost as well as you, husband. Trust me, for I will be needed to cleanse the forest of the evil that dwells there." She put on her own armor, unused for many Ages of the world. "Oh, but this is heavier than I remember."

"I'm surprised that you remember at all." Celeborn said, silencing his wife's offended exclamation with a kiss. "It _has_ been a while, beloved." He added, and she nodded ruefully. "Are you _sure_ you can use that?" he pointed at the long sword, elegant and practical, at Galadriel's side.

"Ask me once more and I shall prove it, youngling." Galadriel warned him, and he smiled. He'd missed their private banter, their loving jokes and jabs that no one knew about, such as their references to the age difference between them. He raised one hand defensively.

"Peace, my wife. It trust in your ability, rusty as it may be." In truth, they had both practiced swordplay every day in the week that had passed since the passing of the Shadow, and she was indeed fairly good. "But please, stay behind the main force."

"And where will you be, husband mine?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"I will lead my people, as you well know. Many of our warriors have been lost. Help me, please." He turned his back to her, and she helped him buckle on his great sword and his quiver. Then she turned and he did the same for her.

"Very well, Celeborn. I will try to stay behind the lines." She sighed again, "Although I am certain that I will not need to draw a weapon against our enemies." She still seemed sad, insecure and distant. Celeborn hugged her carefully so as not to damage her arrows. He knew why she felt that way, and her eyes, drawn to the ring on her finger, confirmed it. 

"You do not need the Ring to defeat the darkness." He repeated for the umpteenth time that week. "We can overcome them. Trust in yourself." She nodded.

"Indeed. Well, the troops are ready to leave, and may this be the last time an elf must fight the darkness." Galadriel stood up and took her husband's hand. Arm in arm, equally armored and carrying weapons, they walked to the stables.

Despite Celeborn's wishes and her own promise, Galadriel insisted on riding at the head of the column, working her magic to heal the war-torn forests of fair Lothlorien. Although spring would never again come to the Golden Wood, there was a feeling of awakening and growth in the air. The Lady's presence was an inspiration to the army and a joy to her husband, who rarely left her side. Only at night, in the privacy of their tent, did Galadriel share her doubts and depression. The loss of the Rings had effected her profoundly and the sea was calling to her again. Celeborn knew that their time together was growing short, and he wanted to use it well.

For weeks the army met only roving bands of orcs, easily disposed of with no losses to the elves, thanks to the Lady's healing. She continued to heal the land as she walked through it, sending out scouts with the magic dust of Lorien to replant trees and restore the flowers. As the weeks went by, the forests grew darker and starker, and the influence of evil more clear. Galadriel grit her teeth and fought harder. At long last they reached the gates of Dol-Goldur.

There seem to be many orcs behind the walls, my Lord, but the walls themselves are weak and the enemy's command is gone." Haldir, chief archer of Lorien, reported. "I believe we can start the attack when the rest of the force joins us tomorrow."

"Agreed." Celeborn nodded. The main force traveled more slowly through the restored land, and was the one who dealt with the bigger scouting parties of orcs. "Attack tomorrow, when the sun is high. For now, tell the troops to get all the practice they can. Our army, despite the recent wars, has been idle too long."

Haldir bristled at the disparagement of his army, but Celeborn laid a calming hand on his arm. "I mean no offence, Haldir. Your troops are well trained, but this is new and unfamiliar terrain. Scout out some strategic position for the archers, and have them test their range. It would only be fair to let the orcs know our intentions." The Lord smiled, and Haldir smiled back. The younger elf had an almost unhealthy interest in killing orcs. He reminded Celeborn of his own grandchildren sometimes. Elladan and Elrohir had taken their revenge on orcs ever since their mother left for the West. He hoped to see them again soon, for more than one night as they stopped in Lorien during one of their hunts. Celeborn shook himself back into the present, and turned to his wife. "Would you like to practice with me, or are you tired?" he asked, seeing again how pale her ivory skin had become.

"Never too tired, my love." She smiled, "I'll enjoy a distraction."

"It that all I am? A distraction?" Celeborn carefully modulated his voice so that she knew he was joking. They had had that argument in earnest shortly after she had received the ring, and had moved on, secure in each other's love. The return to the old debate was meant to lighten the mood, and it did. "Be not distracted, my dear. I'd hate to bruise you."

"Oh, you dare not even try!" Galadriel hopped down from her horse and pulled a blunt training sword from her pack. Celeborn dismounted and did the same.

"Are you sure you do not wish to change first?" Celeborn eyes Galadriel's long flowing traveling clothes.

"I'll never change, my love." She replied, smiling wide, and attacked with more force than he'd expected, making him defend himself. They dodged, parried and feinted, neither one noticing the gathering crowd around them. After a while Galadriel, already drained by weeks of fighting back the darkness, began to tire. Taking advantage of a moment of gracelessness when his wife tripped on her long skirt, Celeborn knocked the sword from her hand. He was unprepared for a more intimate attack, and so was completely shocked when she launched herself at him bodily, knocking him to the ground and pinning him down. He could've overpowered he, but at that moment he noticed that half his army was watching. Thus, he did nothing to stop her as she lowered her head and kissed him deeply. Even as he responded and enjoyed the unexpected display of affection, Celeborn thanked the Valar for making the elves polite. Human soldiers would have never let him hear the end of it. As it was, a quiet chuckle drew Galadriel sharply away from her husband and brought a scarlet flush to her face.

"I apologize, my husband. I forgot myself." She rose quickly, looking away. He got to his feet and drew her to him.

"Never apologize, my Lady. Your kisses are as welcome as they are sweet. Let them watch." He kissed her again. She murmured something against his mouth, and he gave her a questioning look.

"We shouldn't be doing this in public." She repeated.

"Quite." He agreed. "Shall we adjourn to our tent then?" there was a twinkle in his eyes that deepened Galadriel blushing.

"As soon as propriety allows, beloved." She replied in the High Elven tongue, which Celeborn understood and most of their companions- Silvan elves- did not. He nodded s, fighting back an un-kingly grin. 

"Very well, we have entertained you." He called to the gathered elves. "Now let us set up camp and let the orcs know we're here!" The elves cheered and scattered.

"Now then, my Lady, I believe we have somewhere to be." Celeborn linked his arm with his wife's, and led her to their pavilion. They entered and closed the flap door firmly behind them, leaving their soldiers to smile and whisper among themselves as they prepared to rid Dol-Goldur forever of the evil that dwelt there.

The next morning the Lord and Lady surveyed their troops with easier hearts and minds than they'd had in a while. The night, although they had had little rest, had been well spent. The main force had arrived, and the sun was peeping over the trees when Celeborn gave the signal and the horns blew. Riding in straight lines, with banners of white, silver and green, the elven fighters marched towards the gates of Dol-Goldur.

The first charge was short, but the elves then retreated and settled down for a siege. They didn't want to risk themselves needlessly, and what is time to an elf after all? Compared to the siege during the Last Alliance, which most of them still remembered, spending month outside Dol-Goldur would be like waiting moments. They were fully ready to wait the orcs out. The orcs were demoralized and unsupported by the evil power of Sauron, but they still had some fighting spirit left, as well as ample supplies. The elves were equally well supplied, and would occupy themselves with the forests around Dol-Goldur. Soon, it would be the only island of .evil in them. That evening, however, as they were resting after the first attack, Galadriel gave her husband a questioning look. 

"Why do we not attack again, beloved? I grow weary of being far from home, and believe we can afford to be less cautious."

"Caution is a virtue, dearest. There are so few of us left, and I'd hate to lose anyone." Celeborn frowned. Galadriel's eyes closed for an instant then glowed a deep blue when they opened. Her voice took on an echoing quality as she slipped into what Celeborn privately called 'Doom Mode'.

"None shall be lost." She intoned, "the time is right." She blinked and was normal again. Celeborn knew better than to argue with his wife when she got prophetic. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She asked sharply. The Lord of Lorien sighed, put down his spoon, and went to talk to his captains about attacking first thing in the morning.

~~~~~`

The gates of Dol-Goldur fell with an almost pathetic ease. It took just over an hour for them to collapse and less than a day to dispose of the remaining orcs, who barely put up a fight. Galadriel went against her husband's wishes again and was among the first to enter the foul place, her mere presence scattering the orcs and sending them into the other elves' arms. She did shed some black blood that day, but had enough energy to heal those whose condition was the worst. Not many elves were injured, and none killed. The fortress was an empty shell that night, but the elves again set up camp outside, waiting for the final cleansing the next day.

Late that night, Galadriel was pacing nervously around the tent, having finally changed out of her armor. Celeborn gave her a worried look.

"Is something amiss, beloved?" He asked, setting up their bedrolls, "You're wearing a path in the grass." Indeed, where the Lady had walked the grass was beginning to look trampled, which showed her emotions all too clearly. For grass to be disturbed by the feet of an elf, she would have to stomp on it with real force.

"Something is most certainly amiss!" Galadriel snapped. She pointed at her sword, leaning again a wall. "Look at that!"

"It seems to be a sword." Celeborn said noncommittally. He noted the black stains on the silver blade. "You seem to have forgotten to clean it."

"I left it that way on purpose." Galadriel pivoted, staring at the sword, then went back to pacing. "I killed today, Celeborn." She said, "For the first time in longer than I care to count, I killed."

"This is a war, my wife. People kill or they are eventually killed. Also, they were orcs." Celeborn replied.

"Orcs are also Iluvatar's creatures." Galadriel countered. 'You taught me that long ago. Their blood is on my hands."

"They are the creatures of Eru, true, but they are also evil, and they threaten our realm. They are abominations, and must be destroyed." Celeborn said, stung. It was true that he despised killing, but the years had hardened his heart somewhat, and he was, after all, fighting in defense of his kingdom. "Come, beloved. You need your rest tonight, and your strength for tomorrow's ritual."

"I cannot rest." Galadriel waved her hand. "The sights haunt me."

"I do not understand," Celeborn shook his head, puzzled, "You have seen so many wars, much worse battles than this one. Why does today disturb you so?"

"Not the sights of today." Galadriel sank down into a chair. "You are right- I have seen many wars, too much death and pain, and I can feel every drop of it pressing down on me. I am weary, Celeborn. I cannot afford to add to all this suffering, even if they are orcs." She realized she was rambling and stopped herself. Celeborn pulled up another chair and picked up a hairbrush. After millennia of marriage, he knew just how to calm his difficult mate down. When he saw that she wasn't going to object, he started to undo her braids carefully, brushing out the mass of her golden hair. When all the combs were out and his wife's magnificent mantle of hair was brushed out, he moved it forward and started massaging her shoulders. Long, precise fingers worked out the tension of a day spent swinging a heavy sword and thinking heavier thoughts. Galadriel sighed and melted into his touch. "If you think this will make me forget," she murmured, "You're probably right."

"Good. The killing was not your fault, Galadriel. You cannot take upon yourself the blame for every war since the rising of the Moon." Celeborn continued the massage, and felt her relax slowly under his hands.

"I do not take the blame, but I can still feel the loss of every soul. So many have died this past year. Men, dwarves, even hobbits. The elven nations have been lucky so far, and now we have won with no real major losses." She replied. "Our time is over, yet we are allowed to pass on with dignity. The orcs' time is also over, yet they are not given that same dignity."

"Eru likes us better." Celeborn shrugged, not wanting to trouble himself with such thoughts. He knew that he, at least, had many years yet before the sea started calling to him. Galadriel stiffened and he swore silently as half an hour's work was lost.

"Eru loves all his children equally." She said hotly, and then added woefully, "I do not deserve his love." Celeborn closed his eyes and counted to ten in dwarvish.

"Not that again, beloved. This self-pity ill becomes you." The issue hadn't been brought up since Celebrian left, and Galadriel had been melancholy for years afterwards. "The Valar have nothing against you personally." He didn't say that she'd done nothing to offend them, for they both knew that she had. She simply took her guilt a lot more seriously than Celeborn suspected the Valar did, after all these years.

"Yes they do!" Galadriel insisted, shaking him off and rising. "Why won't they let me back if they don't hate me? Why does the Doom of Mandos lie on me as well?"

"How do you know that it does?" Celeborn didn't want to be dragged into that argument again, but even his considerable patience was close to its end. As much as he loved and cherished his wife, her short bouts of depression irritated him sometimes, especially when she talked of the Kinslaying, in which many of his family had been killed, or of the ruin of Doriath.

"They won't let me go back!" Galadriel almost wailed, and Celeborn's patience snapped.

"You never even tried."

Galadriel froze. "What did you say?" Celeborn realized he may have gone too far, but repeated himself anyway.

"I said that you've never tried to go back." Galadriel spun around and glared at him.

"How dare you." She hissed coldly, her eyes frozen orbs of gray, advancing on him, "How _dare_ you talk to me this way?" He saw the outrage in her eyes and backed away, but wasn't fast enough to avoid the back of her hand, which collided with his face painfully. "How _DARE_ you?" She screeched.

"I dare because I consider myself your friend, as well as your husband and lover." Celeborn replied, touching a hand to his cut lip, "And because you've never tried to return to the Undying Lands, and can't even be sure you won't be allowed in. Valinor may be waiting for you with open arms." Now he knew that he'd gone too far to come back, and resolved to try and end the conflict as fast as he could.

"So you'd rather I left?" She asked angrily. In the face of her growing fury, Celeborn's own anger faded away, leaving him simply tired of the fight.

"I only want you to be happy, beloved." He said earnestly.

"Don't call me that." She yelled, "You have no right."

"I have a right because I love you, and I want you to be happy, and I also have a duty to my land, as do you." If he allowed it to continue, Celeborn knew that the fight might destroy what little time they had left together. Their disagreements were rare, but could last for years if allowed to go unresolved. "You are distraught, my lady, and weary. We will discuss this further in the morning, if you so wish." That usually worked, separating them until they both calmed down. This time, however, it failed.

"I will not be pacified like a child, Celeborn. You will explain yourself." She said haughtily.

"Is that an order, my lady?" He asked just as coldly, "I remind you that I am your equal, and you cannot force me to do as you wish. Besides, I believe that I explained myself perfectly well earlier."

"You dare question my authority now?" Galadriel pulled herself to her full height, and stood eye to eye with her husband, gathering an aura of majesty around her, "We shall see." She thrust her hand forward. Her own personal force hit Celeborn like a stone wall, and he had to use every bit of his own impressive strength to stay standing. He braced himself, ready for the power of the Ring to annihilate him, whispering a short prayer to Elbereth.

The realization that there _was_ no Ring hit them both at the same time. Celeborn started breathing again, and allowed his suddenly weak legs to fold beneath him, sinking slowly to the floor. Galadriel gasped and lowered her hand, blood draining from her face.

"Oh, Celeborn…Eru, I would've…I could've…Eru, forgive me, I didn't mean to-" She lowered herself to the floor as well, finding that she lacked the energy to stand. "I'm sorry. Could you ever forgive me? I-" She hugged herself, tears of shame and frustration at her inability to explain herself running down her face.

"Ever is a long time, Galadriel," Celeborn finally found his voice, though it was quieter and shakier than before, "And I will try to understand." He paused as his breath caught, then steadied himself and continued, "I love you, my wife, and will continue to love you even in Mandos, should you send me there. You were upset." He did not reach out for her, still wary, and his eyes told her nothing.

"I'm so sorry…" She repeated, still stunned by her own actions. Celeborn picked himself up and held out a hand to help her stand.

"It is late." The absence of the small endearments he usually used spoke volumes and hurt the lady more than shouting and blame ever could've. "We should both rest."

"We should." She agreed meekly, rising and making her way to her bedroll. They would probably both sleep the mortal way that night, Celeborn thought, for it was a better escape from reality then the elven way, and they needed it. He extinguished the candles and lay down, trying to calm himself, but it took him almost an hour to stop shaking. He heard his wife's stifled sobs and felt his own eyes fill. Suddenly a pair of gentle hands wrapped themselves around him and he shuddered.

"I love you, Celeborn." She whispered, "and I'm truly, really sorry."

Celeborn didn't trust his voice, and made no reply, but sent all the love he could through their bond. Galadriel simply hid her face in his hair and cried harder. Eventually she fell into the deep slumber of mortals and exhausted elves, but Celeborn lay there for hours, not even going into elf-sleep, just thinking.


	3. DolGoldur, part 2

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2b- Still Dol-Goldur…

See part one for disclaimers and thanks. I wrote Thranduil nice! Hah to you all.

He must've dozed off around dawn, for when he next became aware, Celeborn was 

lying on his back with his wife in his arms, and the sun was shining. He didn't want to wake her up, so as always he stayed still and waited patiently, hoping that she'd wake in a better mood. The previous evening had been disturbing and frightening, and he was still shaken by his wife's violent behavior. The knowledge that his entire army probably heard the fight didn't help calm his spirit. They'll be concerned, he knew, and only Haldir might express his feelings. The others were too awed by the lord, and especially by the lady, to speak out.

Eventually she woke, and they dressed themselves in silence, staying away from each other without even intending to. Galadriel was indeed in a much more cheerful mood, although still burdened by guilt. She knew she'd hurt her husband, and allowed him to make the first move rather than forcing her presence on him. If he wished to stay away for a time, she accepted it as her deserved punishment. As long as he made no attempt to interfere with their bond, she was happy. He took her hand as they left the tent, but she could feel the hesitance of his touch. Spontaneously, she turned and kissed him softly, "I love you."

"I love you too, queen of my heart." He replied, _even if I do fear for your sanity._ Celeborn resolved to write to Mithrandir and Rivendell as soon as he could, and see whether the bearers of the other two Rings were suffering the same problems. "Come, let us prepare for the ritual." He saw the worried looks directed at them by many of his captains, and didn't resist when Haldir drew him aside. The younger elf could barely contain himself.

"My lord, last night-"

"Was between my wife and I, Haldir. Nothing happened- that is all you need to know." Celeborn cut him off coolly.

"But-"

"Enough, Haldir." An edge crept into the lord's voice. 'Learn to curb your curiosity. We have much to do." He realized he was being curt and unkind, but did not want to explain things right then and there, or anytime later, really. Haldir nodded, looking hurt, and retreated, still looking worriedly over his shoulder. Celeborn's steely glare kept whoever tried to approach them a safe distance away on their way into the dark fortress.

The ritual itself was fairly simple- for everyone but Galadriel, that is. All the others had to do was lend her their energy as she focused it to destroy the evil. She stood in the center of the main courtyard, with Celeborn directly behind her, his hands linked with those of Haldir and Rumil, his captains, who in turn linked hands with others in a circle surrounding the Lady. The army of Lothlorien formed a ring of power more powerful than most of those remembered, even by elves, and all their power was directed at their queen.

Galadriel held her hands high, fighting both to control the power and to direct it, her voice rising in a chant as ancient as it was sacred. Her voice rose and fell, carrying to the furthest corners, dungeons and towers, and the shadows visibly retreated with a muted howl of an evil wind. 

No one was really surprised when the first cracks appeared in the walls, but the shaking of the earth threw the elves off balance, quite literally. Nimble elven feet quickly found the right place to step in, and the circle was undisturbed, but the tremors of the ground made harder to concentrate. The ring was far enough from the outer walls to have to worry about them collapsing on their heads, but chunks of the floor started falling inwards as well. Still, the circle held. With a final note, held for what seemed like eternity, the walls crumbled to dust and the pits laid open for all to see. Galadriel sang three more defiant notes, clear and piercing, and the black smoke fled from the dungeons, leaving them empty. Then the elven queen collapsed in exhaustion on the rocky ground. Many elves swayed as well, drain by the ritual, but not Celeborn. More tired than he'd felt in some time, still he carried his wife back to their tent and cared for her until she sunk into a deep slumber later that day. Only then did he allow himself to rest, letting his captains take care of the final destruction of Dol-Goldur.

Celeborn knew that he had barely closed his eyes when he felt a presence by his side. Immediately, he was alert. He opened his eyes, hand wandering to his sword, but relaxed when he saw it was only Haldir. "Yes, my friend." Celeborn sighed, "How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you after so difficult a day, but messengers have arrived from King Thranduil of Mirkwood, and they asked to see you." Haldir said apologetically. Celeborn lowered his eyes and inspected his outfit quickly. Despite the slight dustiness, he was presentable. He nodded at Haldir. "Show them in. Have you offered them refreshments?"

"They claim that they have not traveled far enough to need any." Haldir replied, and Celeborn's curiosity was aroused. Granted, Mirkwood was the closest elven realm, but they were still at least a week's hard ride away from Lorien itself, and at least a day away from where the army of Lorien now camped. He wondered. The messengers were two elves he was unfamiliar with, but then he had not visited Mirkwood in many years.

"Welcome, friends." He greeted them. They bowed.

"King Thranduil's greetings to you, Lord of the Golden Wood." One of them started, and Celeborn suppressed as grimace of distaste at Thranduil's insistence to call himself 'king' when there _was_ no High-King of elves anymore. "We bear news from the forces of Mirkwood, situated but half a day's ride from this place on the other side of this accursed fortress which, I see, you have destroyed today. Our army has cleansed the forest from our city southwards to this point. We assume you have done the same south of here, to the Anduin?"

"Indeed we have. The forces of darkness dwell no longer in Mirkwood north of the Anduin and south of Dol-Goldur." Celeborn found himself acting more formal than he was used to with these pompous elves. They seemed to have very little respect. He wondered that his scouts hadn't met the other army, but remembered that the green elves of Mirkwood possessed the uncanny ability to disappear completely within the confines of their realm, even from the eyes of other elves. "Tell me, is Thranduil with his army?"

"He is, my lord, and he would be very pleased to meet with you at some halfway point to discuss the future of this land, which is now inhabitable again." The Mirkwood elf replied. "If you will ride with us, we will lead you to this spot."

A small part of Celeborn was outraged at the imperiousness of the other king. How dare he demand a meeting like this! Still, most of him was simply too tired to argue. Leaving his army was not something to be done lightly, and there was no great trust between Mirkwood and Lorien, so he took some time to think, offering the messengers food and drink and letting Haldir take care of them. He would have to meet with Thranduil and decide things anyway, if the forest was indeed cleansed, and since they were closer now, he saw no reason not to join the others and meet now. His only problem was that he would be leaving his forces alone. Galadriel, as experience told him, would take at least a day to recover from the exhaustion, and would be unable to direct the army in case of a sudden attack. He trusted his captains, of course, but was still uneasy. He summoned Haldir and the messengers back.

"I will meet with Thranduil." He said. "My lady will oversee things here, aided by my captains." He gave Haldir a meaningful look, and the archer nodded, knowing that he and his brothers were in charge until either the lord or lady were back. "Haldir, have my horse prepared. Are you ready to leave immediately?" He asked the other elves as Haldir disappeared from the tent. They nodded. "Very well. Let us go, then." He rose, telling himself that his traveling outfit was perfectly adequate for a parley, even with one as standoffish as Thranduil. He really disliked the king, a dislike that came from several carelessly tossed insults about the exploits of certain forces during the Last Alliance and the general snobbishness of elves who were all much younger than Celeborn was, and didn't have what he felt was the proper respect. He mounted, whispering last orders to Haldir. He knew that the other elves would never harm him, but was still wary. Haldir didn't have to be told that if his lord wasn't back in three or four days, a search party should be sent out. Silently, unescorted, they rode out northwards.

The messengers had exaggerated the distance between the two armies- it took them no more than three hours to reach the other camp. Celeborn was shown into the royal tent, and announced with all due respect. Thranduil rose to greet him, and they bowed to each other, but it was clear they were not friends.

"Greeting, Thranduil of Mirkwood." Celeborn started.

"Greeting, Celeborn. How fair you and your wife?"

"We are well, thank you." Celeborn lied, "And you?"

"We are well. I lost people in the attacks, but most are well, and enjoying the newfound peace." Thranduil motioned for Celeborn to sit, and they both settled into slightly more serious things. "Tell me, what news from the west?" He looked slightly embarrassed, "Our contacts with the outside world were never strong, and we long for information."

"We have also been unfortunately secluded lately, through our own fault," Celeborn agreed, "but we have my wife's mirror, which shows us much." He gave Thranduil a short summery of the events of the past months, and what he knew of the final battle. 

"We guessed from the sudden fear of the orcs, and from our lighter hearts that the One Ring was destroyed." Thranduil nodded. "This is indeed happy news, my friend." The elven lord seemed uncertain for a moment, and Celeborn could see that the next question cost him some pride. "What of my son? Have you any news of him? I have heard nothing since he left Rivendell against my will."

"He is well. He visited our realm with the Fellowship several months ago, and fought in the great battles. He is well, fear not, and will probably return to your house soon. Will you accept him?" Celeborn asked, curious to see how the other would react. Thranduil and Legolas's arguments were famous, and the king's rage when he had heard that his son was traveling with humans and dwarves had been terrible, so people said, but Celeborn could see genuine concern in his eyes now.

"Of course, with open arms." Thranduil replied quickly, then sighed. "My son and I have had our disagreements in the past years, since his mother's death. I am starting to feel that he was in the right, though, and that I should perhaps," he paused, hating to admit defeat, "apologize. We cannot afford to be torn apart now, when the world is in uproar around us. Yes, I will be happy to see him."

"And he you, I'm sure." Celeborn said, inclining his head slightly. "And now, the matter of the forest. I apologize for my unseemly haste, but I do not wish to leave the army on its own for too long." _Nor my wife,_ he thought.

"Your people are adults, Celeborn, and can take care of themselves." Thranduil waved his hand, "But we do want to return to our homes, I think. It would be a shame if Legolas returned and found me away."

" I do not think you should be concerned. It will be a while before he returns. There is much left to do in the realms of men." Celeborn cautioned him, not wanting him to get his expectations too high. "But yes, let us proceed."

"I propose that we divide the forest between us." Thranduil offered, and Celeborn nearly laughed. Of course they would divide the forest- the question was how. Thranduil continued. "The forest is large, and neither one of us needs or can control even a part of it. Also, there is an expanse that is equally far from both our realms."

"Yes." Celeborn suddenly found himself thinking that Lorien didn't really _need_ more land. They had their piece of forest, and that was enough. After all, there were no children who grew up and needed new houses, and replanting all that forest with _mallorn_ to keep things neat would be so bothersome… "Well. I think we can agree that we don't really need all that land, and there are many who would benefit from it. Let us each take the land closest to our realms, and share the rest with others."

"Agreed. I think I could handle the land in the north, from my borders to the mountains in the south." Thranduil said, and Celeborn nodded absent mindedly, trying to think of the southernmost landmark in the great forest to name. He knew, with an instinct as strong as the one which told him his wife would leave soon, that Lorien itself didn't have much time left.

"I believe that we should take the southern lands, as far north as The Narrows." He said finally, knowing that anything less would look suspicious. Even so, Thranduil was surprised.

"Are you sure?" Celeborn nodded. "It's your choice, of course. What shall we do with the rest, then?"

"Give it to the men, when they return." Celeborn suggested calmly, and Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "The Beorlings, and the other Men of the woods. They will take good care of the land once we are gone."

The darker elf thought for a long time, and Celeborn could see him fighting with himself. Finally he closed his eyes and nodded his agreement. "I will not deny that the thought of giving good forest to the humans bothers me, but you are right- they will take good care of it. It is decided then."

"It is." Celeborn smiled. Thranduil called for wine to seal the agreement, and filled their goblets. "We will deal with the men of the forest, if you wish." He offered.

"It would be better. I fear that we don't know the ways of humans, and may offend them." Thranduil admitted ruefully. "It will be good to return to our part of the forest. I have not seen the Mirkwood so calm and bright since the beginning of this age."

"I think," Celeborn swirled the deep red wine of Mirkwood, made with grapes that barely saw sunshine, yet were as sweet as the grapes of the Shire, "that now that the shadow is lifted, the name Mirkwood no longer fits. It deserves a more cheerful name. Perhaps it is time for this land to return to its original name."

"Greenwood the Great?" Thranduil said, deep in thought, "Yes, that does sound right. The very trees agree with us." He rose and opened the flap door of the tent, calling out to the scattered elves, "Quickly, gather everyone- hurry!" he turned to Celeborn, "I wish to tell them immediately and have them start spreading the news. They need to hear good news."

Soon, the entire army of Mirkwood, clad in the traditional green and brown, was gathered outside the royal tent (which was only different from the other tents in that it was slightly bigger to accommodate councils). Thranduil cleared his throat, and his voice carried to the very edge of the crowd.

"Elves of Mirkwood, rejoice! The shadow has been lifted from Middle-Earth, and from this forest in particular. The Enemy is forever destroyed. Let it be known that from this day forth, this forest shall be name Greenwood the Great, as it was known in the days of light many years ago." The elves cheered. Thranduil raised his goblet. "To Greenwood!"

"Greenwood!" The cheer echoed off the thick trees. Several voices immediately rose in a song of gratitude. Celeborn felt his heart ease a bit. Here were elves for whom the sea wasn't calling yet, and would remain long after the ages of the Eldar passed, happy to be apart of the world and yet in it still. And he noticed that there was still enough daylight left for him to return to his own camp before dark. Amid the celebrating elves, he excused himself and went to find his horse. Thranduil followed him.

"You are not leaving already, Celeborn?" he asked, surprised. "Surely you will stay the night here, and return to your camp in the morning, refreshed."

"I regret that I cannot." Celeborn replied. "I…" He decided to be truthful, "I worry about Galadriel. She strained herself today, and she's been unwell lately. I wish to return to her and reassure myself that she is well again."

"I under. Go then, and give her my regards and respect. May we meet again in circumstances just as happy as today's!" Thranduil waved Celeborn on his way, but offered no escort, trusting in the other elf's ability to find his way back.

Celeborn rode hard and managed somehow to reach his own army camp before darkness. He dismounted quickly and handed his horse to a handler who was waiting for him. He updated Haldir about the results of his meeting with Thranduil while striding towards his tent. "Has my wife awakened yet, Haldir?"

"Not yet, my lord." The younger elf replied, "Will you eat something before you see her?" He knew his king well enough to know that in the rare times in which he was busy, Celeborn could go without food and sleep for days, but still he worried.

"I'm not hungry, thank you, but Galadriel should eat. I'll take care of it." Celeborn waved Haldir away and disappeared inside his tent. Galadriel lay there as still as he had left her. Celeborn didn't think she'd moved at all all day. Gently he pulled the covers away from her and kissed her forehead. "Rise, my wife," he whispered, "You have slept long, and should awaken." Galadriel opened one eye, then the other as her surroundings became clear. 

"Celeborn?" She asked groggily, still mostly asleep, "How long have I slept?" He handed her a goblet of juice and she drained it.

"Most of the day, beloved. The ritual was just after dawn, and it is nearly night again. I would've let you sleep, but you need to eat. Shall I see if the fires still burn, to make you something?"

"I'd rather have fruit, thank you." Galadriel rose slowly, smoothing out the wrinkles in her robe, "I am getting too old for this, my love."

"You'll never be old, and you know it." Celeborn said, keeping any sign of rebuke out of his voice, "you just want me to compliment you on your looks."

"And is that wrong?" Galadriel smiled archly. He smiled back and she basked in the glow of his love. 

"It is never wrong, flower of my life. Will you walk with me tonight? There is something I want to show you." He pulled her outside, "Go eat, and then we shall walk the forest as we did when the sun was young."

"Gladly, my husband. Gladly." Galadriel replied, then wandered off towards the kitchen tent. Celeborn snagged the first elf who passed by him, who happened to be Rumil. He sometimes suspected that Haldir was using his brothers to spy on the royal couple and keep them both out of harms way. Well, not this time.

"Rumil, could you inform anyone who seems inclined to walk the woods tonight that strolling west of the camp could be…dangerous?" he asked casually, and saw the other's eyes widen as a large smile appeared on his face.

"Certainly, my lord. And what shall I tell those who search for you this night?"

"That I am out courting danger, my friend." Celeborn replied happily. He felt like a young elf barely into his first century for some reason, and his joy was infectious. Galadriel soon joined him and they walked out of the camp, away from prying, though polite, eyes. She glanced at the sword he was still carrying. "Are we in danger, then?"

"Not at all. There is no danger tonight in Greenwood." He said. At her surprised look, he explained the events of the day and the decisions made. "So you see, my love, our kingdom has grown."

"We really did not need more land," Galadriel said, "but those are good news indeed. Excellent news." They held hands as a peaceful night settled over the forest. Suddenly Celeborn let go of Galadriel's hand and jumped high, grabbing a branch and swinging into a tree. Galadriel stared up at him. "My love, have you completely lost your mind?"

"Hardly." He called from above, "I simply wish to be closer to the trees. Join me?" He held out his hand.

"Honestly, Celeborn, at your age." She chided gently. "What if somebody sees you?"

"Then I will have given them a good example. In any case, I told them all to stay away from this area. Come on up, beloved. Let the trees clear your mind."

"Very well, I'll make a fool of myself." Galadriel gathered up her skirt and followed her husband up the tree. Balancing on one of the higher branches, they looked down at the forest below them. "Beautiful, is it not?" She asked, and he nodded silently, then leaped to another tree, barely making the jump. She gasped. 'be careful, beloved. You have not done this in a long time."

"Too long." He agreed, "and neither have you. Come, let us tree-walk like we used to." Again, she shook her head but complied, and they jumped, climbed and balanced their way deep into the forest without once touching the ground. They didn't disturb the night birds or beasts, but their laughter was heard quite far away. Eventually they reached a small clearing, where the ground was starting to turn into mountains. Galadriel had heard the water rushing before, but didn't comment, for there were many small streams away. The sight that met her eyes made even her, so used to beauty, gasp in surprise. A small waterfall tumbled down from an outcropping of rocks at the foot of the mountain, the water forming a perfectly round pool in the clearing, before continuing as a stream towards the Anduin. The moon was nearly full, and its silvery glow reflected on the water.

"I found this place long ago, dearest. I prayed to Elbereth that it survived the darkness, and she has seen fit to grant my wish, it seems. Is it not a sight to behold?"

"It is, beloved. Galadriel breathed, and hopped down lightly from the branch they were standing on to the ground. "Could we?"

"Of course." He replied, landing beside her. "That is why I brought you here. Let's." He hugged her from behind and started unbuttoning her robe. She turned around and glared at him.

"I can undress myself, Celeborn of Lorien! Take care of your own clothing." She pushed his hands away and undid her own buttons. "Before I claim the pool for myself alone." Faster than his hands could fly, she was out of her dress and in the pool with a small splash. He didn't bother to take off his leggings in his haste to join her, and soon they were both soaking in the pool. It was deeper than they'd expected- deep enough to swim in comfortably. Galadriel immediately headed for the waterfall, soaking her head with the cold, clear water. Celeborn followed more slowly, ducking his head under as he went and pulling it out abruptly, spraying a fine shower of water into her face as he did. She squealed and splashed him back, thus starting a water fight such as only children or adults who are very much in love can have. The sound of their merriment reached far again, but no enemy ear was there to hear them, and they were safe.

"We are acting like children." Galadriel stopped, breathing hard with laughter, and allowed Celeborn to gain the advantage momentarily and douse her face with water before he, too, stopped.

"Who's to see and care, my love? We deserve some time off." He protested. The elven king felt a sense of urgency, some foreboding that made him want to have as many happy moments with his wife before she left. Somehow he had a feeling that he wouldn't join her for a long while, and he wanted to spend all the time he could with her. "Don't bother yourself with such trifles. Unless," He moved forward suggestively, "you'd rather engage in a more mature, sedate pastime."

Her eyes gleamed and she pressed herself against him. Then she pouted. As with everything she did, Galadriel pouted beautifully. "But you are much too formally dressed for such sports, my lord. Will I have to play by myself?" she teased. Celeborn looked down and realized that he still had his leggings on. The offending article of clothing found its way to the grassy bank, and soon new sounds, quieter but just as joyful, filled the forest. This time, rather than staying politely out of their way, the animals of the forest crept close to see the magic.

Even in the midst of watery passion a small part of Celeborn marveled at the change in his wife. She was much like the elf-lady he remembered meeting so long ago in Doriath- still fair, serene and powerful, but much happier and more lighthearted now that the Ring wasn't burdeniher. They hadn't been together as a real couple for far too long, in truth, and he'd missed it badly. They were both trying to make up for lost time. He shared that thought with her afterwards, when they lay breathless and dripping on the grass under the stars. She sighed.

"Aye. We have been strangers for too long, my love. It was my fault, and I apologize. But we can make amends, can we not?"

"We can indeed." _But there is so little time_…Celeborn thought sadly. Galadriel seemed unaware of her impending departure, or perhaps in denial, but it was very obvious to Celeborn. He suddenly felt very tired. "Perhaps you should look into your mirror again when we return home, beloved." He suggested quietly, hesitantly. The last time Galadriel had looked in the mirror herself, she had nearly entered a head-on confrontation with the Great Eye, and a battle she didn't have much chance of winning. Less than a year afterwards, a strange conglomeration of of travelers had come to Lorien on a quest to destroy the One Ring. Perhaps it would bring her a better vision now. Her answering smile was sad.

"Yes, I think it may be time to look again. When will we return then?" Instantly she was her practical self again, sitting up and searching for her clothes.

"Soon. I think we should leave tomorrow, now that our business here is ended." Celeborn replied. He didn't rise, and pulled Galadriel back down. "Don't let us return yet, Galadriel. For one night let us not be the Lord and Lady of Lorien, but simply ourselves. They can live without us for one night."

"And where shall they find us tomorrow?" Galadriel asked, smiling, 'Here in the forest, or back in the camp acting like chaste, level-headed, serious rulers?"

"They'll find us when they will, and then we shall pack up and go home at last." Celeborn looked around the dark clearing and started humming an old melody few still remembered. Within minutes Galadriel was asleep, and this time he too nodded off quickly. They both had very pleasant dreams.

They rose before dawn, and the first rays of the sun found them sneaking into the camp hand in hand. Hours later any trace of the elves except for a lasting serenity in the forest had disappeared, and the army started making its way back to Lothlorien.

****


	4. Celeborn Speaks: MinasTirith

****

3. Celeborn Speaks - Minas-Tirith.

The weeks after our return to Lorien were peculiar. On one hand, my wife was more relaxed and happy than I'd seen her in many a year, yet there was still a tension in our relationship. She postponed looking in the mirror again and again, week after week, and I worried. I knew we hadn't much time left together, and wasn't certain of anything. Galadriel noticed my unease sometimes, but I could not talk to her, for I knew not myself what was wrong. We busied ourselves with the day to day running of our realm, which was as calm and beautiful as ever, filled with music and laughter. The glow may have dimmed when the power of the Ring faded, but our own life force kept it strong. We bided our time, as always, waiting for the inevitable change we knew would come.

After weeks of waiting, I spoke to my wife. "Beloved, you must look into the mirror. You have postponed the deed too long. You will not know until you try." I was still cautious around her, remembering that night in the camp, which has joined other, bloodier sights that appear in my infrequent nightmares.

"I cannot." Galadriel replied, looking uncertain, which was unusual. 'What if it tells me I can never go back?"

"I have a feeling that it will tell you that your wish has been granted, my love." I said, putting one arm around her. We touched more those days, both in the privacy of our chambers and in front of others. "Now is a time for wish-granting. There is a new King in the West, and the times are changing." She leaned against me, sighing.

"You are right, my husband. I can feel even more changes about to come. But I am…Afraid." Rarely have I heard my wife admit to being afraid of anything, but I suppose destiny is indeed a fearsome thing, especially for someone like her, so used to making her own. I try to comfort her, but my words seem hollow even to me, for there is some reason to fear, after all. 

"Fear not, beloved. You will not be left alone in this land. Wherever you are, there shall I be at your side, I and many others. You needn't fear anything." I can see that she is not reassured, but she smiles still.

"I love you, did you know that?" My heart melts, and I return her love with all my heart. "I shall look in the mirror today."

"Excellent, my wife." I say, but I know that she will probably find a way of avoiding it again. I know her too well. It seems that the only talk nowadays is of going West, and it hurts her to know that none share her apprehension. I decide to act before it is too late, and rise. "Why don't we go do it now?"

"Now?" Her face clouds with worry, and she hesitates. Will I have to goad her into action? "But surely…"

"Why not now? We have nothing important to do now, and the court of the Mirror is empty at this hour. Come, get it over with." I take her hand and pull lightly, and she stands, but does not move further. I sigh inwardly. Again I will have to tread dangerous ground in order to make her act. "Galadriel, granddaughter of Finwe, High King of the elves!" I raise my voice, "What should I tell your father when I see him in Tirion? That his daughter did not come to him because she was too afraid to discover whether she could? That you do not even try? I would be too ashamed to speak." I force myself not to shrink back in expectation of the rage I may have ignited. It was all true, except that I know that if she doesn't not go West, she will die of grief before the end of the century. She deflates visibly, and I relax.

"You will not have to tell my father that." She says finally, "For I will talk to him myself. The last child of Finarfin shall see him yet, my husband. " She walks purposefully to the door, then stops and looks at me. "You are sly, Celeborn. You play me like a harp. You should be very ashamed of yourself." And yet she smiles, and my heart warms. I smile back.

"I am, beloved, I am. Come and prove me false, then." We leave the room and climb down quickly into the Court of the Mirror. As I had guessed, it is abandoned. It almost always is, these days. I guide my wife to the Mirror, and fill it with water for her. It is said that the most potent water is poured by the Lady herself, but none may truly See in water poured by his or her own hand.

Then there is nothing for me to do but wait and watch in silence as she leans and looks into the water. Her hair falls over her face and hides it, but I can see her hands clench until the joints are white and bloodless. For a moment I fear that my premonition was wrong, and her heart would be broken, and long minutes pass breathlessly. After an eternity she raises her eyes, and my heart stops for a moment as I see the wetness on her cheeks. But then she smiles more brilliantly than I've seen her smile since our daughter's wedding day, and rushes into my arms.

"Oh Celeborn, it's true! They'll let be come back! I've passed the test and they say I can return…" Tears of happiness stream down her face, and I force myself to smile with her even as my heart breaks within me, for I know now that she will leave me behind when she goes. My love raises her voice in a song of gratitude, and I quietly fade into the forest, not wanting to mar her joy, but her voice follows me wherever I go. I feel choked by her song, and leaves rustle as I rush by them.

Damn her for understanding, after a while, and for knowing me well enough to know where I'd go. She finds me sitting on the bank of the Anduin, my bare feet in the cool water, my head lowered. I hear her coming, yet hope that she will say nothing. She doesn't speak, just sits next to me and hugs me and we sit together in silent understanding and compassion until the sun sets and the stars come out. 

The next morning we received word of riders coming from Rivendell. The change we had expected was finally here.

***8

At first I didn't even notice my son-in-law in the crowd of guests. He, and most of the others, were lost in the radiance of our granddaughter. Arwen, going to join her betrothed in Gondor, seemed as luminescent as Luthien had been when the human Beren had arrived, so long ago. Truly, she was beauty itself in her happiness. I followed the only somber face in the group to the edge of the main clearing, finding him looking back morosely.

"Welcome, my son. How fair you, now that the shadow had passed?" I asked casually. I had not written to Rivendell after all, after Galadriel had calmed down. He shrugged.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose." He said. 'It is a joyous time."

"It is indeed, Elrond, but you are not happy, and I needn't ask why. Your daughter has made the choice of Luthien." I say, and he turns to me, his face calm but his eyes stormy.

"Why do you assume I am unhappy, Celeborn? My daughter is getting married to the man she loves. I am happy for her." There is a bite to the word 'man', as if it is distasteful to him. I smile and nod.

"I assume, my friend, because your sorrow is felt from across the court by one who has felt the same. I only wish I could help, but my only advice is that you talk to my wife." He sets his lips and says nothing. The Lord of Imladris will accept no advice from me, it seemed. And yet- "Very well. A word of warning then, old friend- if you ruin this wedding with your mood, you shall have both of us to deal with, and we'll be very displeased with you. Is that clear?" 

"Please, Celeborn. Just leave me alone." He said, and walked away. I exchanged looks with my wife across the clearing, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. The message had been accepted. I looked after him, then sighed and went on greeting the other guests. I couldn't help him- not yet.

The week that followed was full of many conversations, feast and song, dancing and laughter as Lothlorien celebrated Arwen's coming nuptials. Even Elrond joined the festivities, although Galadriel had not talked with him yet. She said the time was not yet right, and she would do it when it was. I occupied myself with talks with my granddaughter, who was truly happy, with exchanging tales with Glorfindel- one of the only elves who still remembered the First Age- and with watching Elrond avoid my wife as a Hobbit wouavoid starvation. After the initial greetings they didn't exchange more than a few words, and always about unimportant subjects. She worried about him, and shared these worries with me, but didn't pressure him. After that week of celebration, we left for Gondor.

I didn't admit it to anybody, not even to my wife, but the journey, or rather, its ending, made me uneasy. I had not been among humans in far too long, and in truth, their company made me uncomfortable. The knowledge that there would almost certainly be dwarves there as well unnerved me. I possess a certain dislike of dwarves, for understandable reasons, and hiding my feelings becomes tiring after a while. True, none of these dwarves had anything to do with the ruin of my homeland or the death of my family, but the same blood flows in their veins, and they share their ancestors' destructive greed. Even the dwarves of Moria, blameless as they are of those atrocities, make me edgy. An elf must never show nervousness, especially one who is called The Wise, but the facade is hard to keep up. Still, we rode on. The journey, despite my nervousness and Elrond's continued foul mood, was a gay one, as journeys of elves usually are. We sing even going to war or returning from it with our ranks diminished, let alone when going to a wedding. We didn't delay much, and met my grandsons on their way back from the great battle. I must say that being surrounded by my family caused me much joy, although I knew that some of them would leave me forever soon afterwards. Elladan and Elrohir were polite but distant at first, then got used to the idea of having us around and lost their initial awe of us. Arwen, used to being in our company in Lorien, was as warm and affectionate as ever, even more so now that she was so happy. In less time than I would've liked, we arrived at Minas Tirith, the White City of Men.

It was pretty, yes, although it couldn't compete with the green forests of Lorien or the tall, flowing buildings in Imladris. It was full of men and women, and several dwarves, all come for King Elessar's wedding. Most gave us disbelieving looks, astonished that the elves had come, perhaps surprised that we really existed. Between greetings and congratulations, the mere day between our arrival and the wedding seemed to pass in minutes. The great day had arrived.

The wedding itself was beautiful, and the bride and groom gloriously happy with each other. If the elves felt any sorrow over losing one so loved, we hid it well. Well, almost all of us did. Elrond displayed perfect control over his features and his voice as he gave his daughter away, but his eyes betrayed him again. Elladan and Elrohir were even more obvious in they unhappiness, although they were careful not to show it around their sister. All in all, it was a joyous affair. The celebrations lasted many days, in which I barely had time to speak to my wife although I did manage to speak with Mithrandir. It was clear that he was planning to leave within a year at the most, for The Age of the Elders was truly over now, and Middle Earth belong to Men alone. 

At long last the feasts and dances ended, and I was relieved. The heroes of the War of the Ring would leave soon, I knew, and we would leave with them. I thought of these heroes, some so unassuming, and wondered at their tenacity and their amazing luck, for it was surely on their side. The hobbits were still awed by the world at large, yet all seemed older and less carefree than they'd been when I had first met them. It was saddening to see innocence thus marred, yet interesting to watch the effect the world had on those who had not been a part of it for so long. Another example was Legolas- less proud than I remembered him and good friends with the dwarf, of all people. It seems Galadriel was right, as always.. The dwarf too was changed, although he was still slightly in love with my wife. I was not jealous- almost everyone who knows Galadriel falls in love with her at some point or another, and many have been far less polite than this one.

Aragorn himself had finally come into his heritage, and he looked much like his ancestors, which I could see hurt Elrond even more. I felt sorry for my son-in-law. At least I knew that I would see Celebrian in the West, when I went there too. He looked more and more melancholy as the day of our departure drew closer, but Galadriel still refused to talk to him, saying that the time had not yet come. We were going to leave the next day, yet she left him alone. Even after we started our journey, she let him be. At Edoras, we buried one of Men's many kings, slain in a terrible fight. I knew that after that, we would have to leave King Elessar's company completely, as well as that of Arwen's.

That night was the first we'd spent together in over a week. We talked for hours, comparing our impressions of the city and the people, then made love slowly, passionately, as we did when we were young and had the time. Then she told me the words I'd dreaded for months.

"Mithrandir will be leaving early next year, and it seems fitting that all the Ring bearers should go together." She said simply, and I felt a little bit of myself die. "It is time."

"I know. Will Elrond be joining you?" I managed to keep my voice neutral with an effort.

"He will, though he does not know it yet." She replied. "The halfling will come as well, I think." I was silent for a long while, trying to force myself to accept her departure as the fact I knew it was. It was still hard. After a time, Galadriel's arms tightened around me. "You will not join me, then." She stated. I couldn't even nod, feeling that the slightest motion would shatter me, but she knew. "Will you come at some later time, then?" this time I managed to nod, just barely. "Good." She said nothing else, but she seemed to know my mind, as always, for she did not release me or let me escape. I could not sleep, yet nothing else seemed possible so eventually I allowed my mind to slip away to where my body could not go. She was still holding me when I woke up, and it was our leaving day.

We hugged our granddaughter goodbye and bid farewell to king Elessar. I felt that my words to him were morose, but I felt less than cheerful that day. My grandsons managed to say goodbye to their sister without too much awkwardness, but Elrond couldn't. He stood staring at Arwen for a long time, then turned away and left. She followed him, and they both disappeared in the hills.

I know not what said to each other, and I don't think either one of them will ever share it with anybody, but we waited all that morning and Elrond was calmer when they returned. We left, riding quickly, and I believe I noticed Mithrandir keep very close to Elrond, talking to him softly. After about an hour's ride Galadriel drew Elrond away from the group, and they spent the rest of the afternoon in conversation. Several times I saw Galadriel take the reins of Elrond's horse in order to stop him from leaving her side. I only hoped it worked, for it is indeed possible for an elf to die of grief. His eyes glowed with a strange light when he finally left her, and he looked at me with new understanding. She had told him, I realized, of Mithrandir's plans for them. It seemed that almost everybody I knew and loved were leaving me.

The return journey was not a happy one for me. I resolved, foolishly perhaps, not to trouble anyone with my feelings and avoid my wife's company as much as possible, for I knew I would not be able to stand it. After nearly three days of traveling thus, Elrond came to talk to me.

"Celeborn. Lovely day, isn't it?" He started casually. I hadn't noticed anything particularly lovely about it, but agreed nevertheless.

"It is. Most days are at this time of year."

"It seems my dark cloud has passed to you, old friend." He said lightly. I frowned- how dare he imply that?

"I am in a perfectly pleasant mood, my son. Kindly allow me the same privacy I allowed you.

"I will, and would give you also the same advice you gave me," Elrond replied, not making any move to leave, "But the Lady herself asked me to speak with you in her stead, for shfeels that you'd rather not talk to her."

"Has it occurred to you," I asked, getting more and more irritated, "that perhaps I'd rather not talk at all?" Why would Galadriel need to talk to me anyway? She probably knew my innermost thoughts simply by looking at me.

"It has, my lord, but your words to me on our previous journey were wise ones. Keeping such feelings for yourself can't be good for you." He said seriously, and I was tempted to tell him everything, but restrained myself. Elrond had enough problems of his own, and didn't need mine.

"I thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. Don't bother yourself." I replied, sounding stiff and false even to myself. I urged my horse forward, but he caught up with me and I was already at the head of the group, with no where else to go.

"I do bother, Celeborn. Accept it. I will not return to the lady and tell her that I failed- I value my life too much." Oh, he was smooth, and the words stung, bringing up images he had no way of knowing of.

"I'll deal with her. Go away- I'll tell her you're not to blame, when she chooses to ask me herself." I said irritably, angry with my self more than with him. It wasn't his fault, after all.

"She will, eventually, but I have some experience with the emotions you're experiencing now." He said gently, "I too have sent my wife onwards without me."

"Your wife," I stated coldly, "was my daughter also, and you would do well to remember it." Why did he have to bring up Celebrian? One of my greatest fears was that she might think I don't love her or care enough to see her, which would of course be an incorrect assumption. I missed her every day, and would miss her even more after Galadriel left. 

"Yes, but you were used to her being somewhere else for years before she left. Your parting happened long before ours. It is the same with Arwen, and I hope it will be the same in the future. Galadriel is special." He said, and I couldn't hold back a fond smile.

"Aye, she is. I do not need others to tell me that." I said, shaking my head. "A part of me is furious that I'm letting her go without me, yet most of me knows that I can't leave yet. I am needed here, to help the elves who choose to remain and to pass on what tales you haven't told yet." I had not meant to say that, but the words came on their own. "But I do not know whether I'll be able to live without her." I couldn't continue, but Elrond understood.

"I know your feelings well, my friend, and I'm sorry, but the sea has been calling her for so long…She'll die if she doesn't leave soon, and so will we all. The loss of the Rings has effected us." He says, and I remember that terrible night outside Dol-Goldur, and nod. "Her too? Even the strongest are not immune, then." I nod again. "So you see, she must go. Frodo received permission to join us as well- he can only be healed in Aman. Even Gimli will be able to go West with us." I couldn't keep a grimace of disgust off my face at the thought; the news disturbed me more than I liked.

"A dwarf in the Undying Lands? That's sacrilege."

"Dwarves are the children of Aule, Celeborn, and this one fought bravely in the war and is a friend of elves. I understand why you dislike dwarves, but this one is different."

"You understand nothing, Elrond." I glared at him- the presumptuous child! "These things happened long before you started caring. Believe me, I'd prefer the dwarf's company to that of some elves, but the idea seems unnatural." I explained tightly. I was grateful when Elrond didn't pursue that particular line of conversation.

"I do not wish to argue, Celeborn. In fact, I wanted to ask a favor of you." He said, turning very serious.

"Of course." I replied automatically, wondering what I might be able to do for one who'll be leaving so soon.

"My sons have chosen to stay in Middle Earth a while longer. They've both sworn to stay at their sister's side, or at least within riding distance of her, until…" he stopped and swallowed. I nodded. It was understandable that the twins, being younger, wouldn't want to go West yet, and Imladris needed a ruler. "Keep an eye on them for me, Celeborn." He asked. "They are still young and need their family for guidance and comfort. Glorfindel is staying as well, and I trust him of course, but you're family. Could you do that for me?"

I was moved and honored by the request, and told him so. Of course I agreed to help, knowing that it was as much for my sake as for theirs. It would give me something to do after the others left. I suddenly felt better, although the thought of parting still hurt. Elrond broke into my thoughts again.

"One other, even more important thing. As I said, your lady wife sent me to you." He smiled, but I frowned again.

"If she wishes to speak to me she can come herself, and not use a go-between. We are not courting."

"I know. She fears, however, that she has angered you in some way this past week, for you avoid her company and refuse to speak to her. It hurts her, Celeborn, as I am sure it hurts you. She is not gone yet." He put his hand on my arm and I could contain myself no longer.

"But she will be! I can't go on acting as if we have eternity together." I felt my eyes well up and looked away. The words I had to say came out in a choked whisper, "I can't keep loving her."

Elrond was silent for a long time, and I grew worried that I had said something so terrible, that my emotions were so shameful, that he had nothing to say in reply. I looked at him at last, only to find that he too was weeping. "I apologize, my lord." He said quietly, "But I have experienced such feelings twice before in my life, and know your pain. I also know that thinking that will only make it harder for you both. She needs you as much as you need her, Celeborn, for the months you have left. Starting the separation now will kill you both."

"It already is," I agreed, "But I couldn't think of anything else to do. It was foolish of me…But it breaks my heart, Elrond. I love her." I said, repeating aloud the words I'd been telling myself for days. "And now she's leaving and I don't know what the separation will do to us."

"You've been together for more than two Ages, how will a century or two change your relationship?" He asked wryly. 

"I don't know, but I still worry. What if she meets a comely Noldorin and falls in love with him?" I asked, only half in jest, and he gave me an incredulous look. "I should go talk to her, shouldn't I?" I was feeling rather silly, and Elrond kindly made no other comment, except for a quick agreement. I turned my horse toward the back of the marching column, but he stopped it.

"Wait. Remember what I told you about withholding love. Gil-galad said that to me when Elros chose mortality, and you may need to pass them on some day."

I knew whom he was talking about. "Don't worry, my friend. They'll follow you together, and I'll come with them. They are too attached to each other to separate, and there is nothing tying them to the mortal world."

"I hope so, Celeborn. Celebrian would be most displeased with me if none of them returned, and she is almost as terrible as her mother when angered." Elrond said ruefully, and we both smiled.

"Nonsense. Give her my love, will you? Tell her I can't wait to see her again." He nodded, and we both rode back.

Galadriel was very happy to have me back at her side. The rest of the trip is really our own business and nobody else's. I am willing to swear, however, that Fangorn knew exactly how we'd spent the night before we met him, and all the nights before and after that, until we finally returned to the golden woods of Lothlorien.


	5. Lothlorien, part 1

4. Lothlorien (A/N: Yeah, I'm still here, but I've been writer-blocked for a while. Anyway, the second movie pushed a tiny bit of inspiration and got me to sit down, if only to remind people that Haldir doesn't bloody die in the book. This is where I have no more canon to work with, and will have to actually invent plot. Goddess help me. In any case, I hope the next part of this chapter will be out by next week.) The year that followed was peaceful for the elves of the Golden Forest. Galadriel busied her days with the many things that required her attention and her nights with her husband. Although her still became quiet and withdrawn at times, Celeborn still acted the same outwardly, ruling their kingdom with the same quiet strength and pleasantness. They both knew their days together were growing short as the seasons changed outside the eternal autumn that was Lorien, and the human lands changed. A band of elves from Mirkwood passed through Lorien on their way to the new settlement at Ithilien and drew some of the younger elves with them, and the forest was quieter and less cheerful afterwards. Many of those who remained were leaving with their queen, and were busy with their own final duties and arrangement, visiting favorite haunts, packing and celebrating with friends. Autumn slowly grew into winter, and the Mallorns lost their golden leaves for what seemed like the last time. The year passed all too quickly.  
  
Celeborn did not travel with his wife to the Gray Havens. When Elrond and most of his household came to Lothlorien, followed by Gildor's group of traveling elves, he realized that seeing her sailing away would be more than he'll be able to bear. They stayed in Lorien for one agonizing month, during which he forced himself to stay cheerful. All around him people were promising to meet again 'beyond the sunset', and the air was suffused with excitement and the expectations of a journey to a place most of them considered home, despite the fact that they'd never seen it. Some people who weren't going to the Havens either, like Glorfindel and Elrond's sons, came as well, and they seemed happy enough. Finally the day came.  
  
"Will you not even see me sail?" Galadriel asked plaintively, the hurt clear in her voice.  
  
"I cannot, my love. I am sorry." He answered for the hundredth time. 'I'll follow as soon as I can, but not this time." He sighed, tying up the last package and patting it. "You'd think there are no clothes or books in Valinor, from the amount of luggage you bear. Have the horses received permission to join you in the Undying Lands as well?" He tried to smile at his own little joke, but it fell flat. Galadriel gave him a mock stern look.  
  
"I wish to look nice when I return. Some of my kinsmen- my own mother- have not seen me since I was a young child. I want them to realize from the start that I am an adult."  
  
"I hardly think they'd mistake you for a child, beloved, and you always look nice." Celeborn played along, knowing that she truly was worried, on some level. "In fact, to say that you look merely 'nice' would be an insult of the highest order, and I would have to challenge the offender to defend your honor."  
  
"Now, now, no dueling, if you don't mind." She reprimanded, wagging her finger at him. "I want you to come back to me whole an unharmed. My mother hasn't met you yet, and I'd hate to introduce her to my scarred, earless husband."  
  
"Are you suggesting I would lose, my disrespectful wife?" He asked, smiling naturally for the first time in weeks, "Besides, why would I need to meet your mother?"  
  
"Because you'll be living in Valinor with her, and I am certain that she'll want to be formally introduced to you. I am also sure my father has told her many tales of you."  
  
Celeborn winced, "And I can imagine which. Maybe it wouldn't be wise for me to meet her, then. I think I made an unfavorable impression on Lord Finarfin when last we met."  
  
"It was not your fault, beloved." Galadriel assured him, "You were in the middle of a siege, after all, and it was mostly his fault that you did not ask his permission before we wed. Telling him that you took silence as an agreement, however, was rather disrespectful."  
  
"He had the gall to come after more than three thousand years and tell me we were not truly married because he hadn't given his consent. He wouldn't even see Celebrian!" Celeborn replied hotly, then added more calmly, "I don't like your father very much, I'm afraid." Their meeting during the War of wrath had been short an unpleasant. Finarfin had been furious and hurt that his youngest and only surviving child had chosen to stay with her Sindarin mate, and blamed Celeborn for the whole thing. Celeborn sometimes wondered what Finarfin did when he ran into his granddaughter in Valinor, since he'd refused to acknowledge her the first time. Would he still deny their kinship?  
  
"He was upset, Celeborn." Galadriel defended her father, "He had just discovered that all my brothers had been slain in battle. I suspect he promised my mother to bring us back to her." She smiled sadly, "He was rather harsh with his language, though."  
  
"Yes, well, that was a long time ago. I believe people are waiting for you." Celeborn's cheerfulness vanished like morning mists as he picked up the largest bundle and moved it into the basket to be lowered down to the ground. "Tell him to reconsider his opinion of me before we meet again, if he finds the time for it." He added over his shoulder. Galadriel took the last two packages and they descended silently. Under the huge they met the group, headed by Elrond, Mithrandir and Bilbo, who had fallen asleep on his pony. Celeborn surveyed the large number of elves behind his son-in-law and his old friend and took a deep breath, trying to keep his rising emotions in control. He looked again at his wife, garbed in shimmering white with her golden tresses flowing down her back- hair he had brushed and braided for what felt like the last time earlier. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The elven lord had to fight himself not to run to her, hold her and beg her to stay, for he knew he must not, could not, ask that of her. With an almost painful slowness and formality, he embraced Elrond and nodded at Mithrandir, who shook his head, dismounted and slapped Celeborn on the back hard enough to make him stagger. He had said his goodbyes to the others the previous night; only one remained.  
  
Celeborn froze. His feet refused to move. Galadriel was standing by her horse, joy and sorrow mingled in her eyes. He couldn't make himself approach her. It took a great effort for him to move forward. Very correctly, he kissed her softly on the cheek. "Farewell, my wife." He was amazed at the steadiness of his voice, but couldn't say more than these three words. She pulled him into a deep, searing kiss that left him breathless.  
  
"Farewell, beloved. We shall meet again soon. Take care of this land for me." She whispered. Closing his eyes again, Celeborn pushed his anguish aside. He nodded and his hands were steady as he helped her mount. He rode with them to the borders of Lorien, where they would continue to the Sire to collect Frodo. Galadriel held her out, and Celeborn caught it and held it like a lifeline. His face was impassive and his body stiff and straight as he let go and watched them ride away. Elves around him cheered and waved, some laughing, some crying, but Celeborn was in a world of his own, his entire being drawn to the shimmering haze that was his wife, receding in the distance. He remained on the road long after even his elvish sight failed to capture them. Only when the sun started to set that day did he turn his horse away and ride back. Anxious elves- and he knew several had come to check on him during the day- approached him with comforting words, but he waved them away. Marching straight to the royal court, he planted himself firmly in his throne, ignoring its empty twin at his side. "Haldir!" He thundered.  
  
Haldir appeared at his side almost immediately, having shadowed his master for most of the day. "Yes, my lord?"  
  
Celeborn ignored his worried expression as he did most everything that didn't involve the next heartbeat. Sound seemed muted and sight blurry at the edges. "Are there any matters that require my attention today?"  
  
"No, my lord. Everything was settled yester-eve, and nothing new has come up since." Haldir paused. "My lord, are you well? I mean.The Lady- Don't you wish to be alone?"  
  
"Not at all, Haldir. She is gone and will be happier in the West. Our life here must continue." Some part of him was screaming at the wrongness of his words- there was something he wasn't doing right, but he stifled it. "We must move on." He finished. Haldir nodded numbly and Celeborn vaguely recalled that several members of his captain's family had left that day as well. "I apologize, my friend." He said, "That was insensitive of me. It would be silly to go right back to our normal routine." The words meant nothing to him. "Take some time to yourself. I think I'd rather be alone, after all." He waved the faithful archer away, rose heavily and climbed up to their-his, he reminded himself- chambers. The room was packed full of memories. Shutting out sight and sound stubbornly, he cleared his mind of any thoughts and allowed himself to collapse on the bed. Sleep eluded him that night, and for many days afterwards.  
  
The next week or so was only a vague memory for Celeborn, looking back. He went through the motions of kingship, repressing every speck of feeling he had. There wasn't much to do, really- Lorien was nearly empty now, with maybe a score of elves left. There was very little laughter and music to be found, despite their best efforts. Celeborn walked the forest with empty eyes, eating little and saying less.  
  
Finally the sign some expected and others dreaded arrived. Celeborn was sitting in his empty throne-room when Haldir entered, a seagull perched on his arm.  
  
"It has arrived, my lord, and it bears Cirdan's seal. They have set sail from the Havens." He said quietly. The gull hopped down to the armrest of Celeborn's chair and squawked at him. Around its leg was a ribbon with the sigil of the Gray Havens, and a note.  
  
Beloved, tell everyone that we are well, and will sail within the hour. Soon we will see the Undying Lands with our own eyes. I love you. G.  
  
The sight of the familiar script nearly destroyed all his carefully constructed defenses. His hand shook as he put the note down.  
  
"She also sent this with the bird." Haldir handed him a small silk pouch. He opened it and turned it, and a ring fell into his open palm. Haldir gasped. "Is that?"  
  
Celeborn could only nod woodenly. His fingers closed around the jewel until the sharp edges of the white stone cut into his hand. At this last, deepest and true sign that his wife had left Middle-Earth and the life she had in it behind, his fugue started cracking. He rose, trembling, and walked out of the main clearing, gathering his dignity around him like a cloak. How he got up the tree and into his bedchamber, he didn't know, but he ended up there, curled up against the wall, sobbing as if his heart was breaking, which it was. His body shook in silent, restrained anguish, then with freely flowing tears as the elf-lord mourned for a life lost and a world changed, and for the passing of his people.  
  
Now that his bubble of ignorance had burst, everything reminded him of her. Her perfume hung in the air, even after a week, and her delicate touch was evident everywhere. Every time his eyes finally dried, they settled on something else that triggered another memory, and fill up again. He had no idea how long he stayed there, but at some point he was exhausted as he'd ever been, and finally managed to drag himself into bed and fell asleep.  
  
For the next two weeks or so Celeborn didn't set foot outside his room. The food sent up the tree was cleared away untouched, and there was no sign of life at all for those waiting outside. What few elves remained in Lorien we besides themselves with worry, but none dared disturb him. It was a well known fact that elves could simply will themselves to die of grief, and the lord of the Golden Wood seemed well on his way to doing so if nobody did anything. So Haldir finally decided to do something.  
  
He didn't bother to knock, but pushed the unresisting door open lightly. The room seemed empty and Haldir's heart skipped a beat, but then he saw Celeborn sitting in a high-backed chair, his face blank and his eyes closed, and his heart nearly stopped altogether- had he already passed on to Mandos? But no, for he saw him draw a single breath, and then release it.  
  
"My lord? Please, say something!" Haldir said urgently, nearly shaking the older elf in his haste to rouse him. The silver-haired figure opened half an eye, then closed it again.  
  
"What part of 'I wish to be alone' did you fail to understand, Haldir?" The voice was raspy, tired and sharper than Haldir was used to, but the archer was so relieved he didn't mind.  
  
"My lord, we were worried about you." He tried to explain.  
  
"You shouldn't have been. I'm fine." Celeborn snapped. He just wanted to be alone. It hadn't been that long, had it? "How long have I been here?"  
  
"More than two weeks, my lord." Haldir replied. Celeborn's eyes flew open in real surprise.  
  
"Two weeks? It seemed like mere minutes to me." Celeborn blinked and rubbed his eyes. "She'd really gone, Haldir."  
  
"I know, my lord, but you shall see her again. We all shall." Haldir had been telling himself that every day, "And, as you said yourself, life must go on. Lorien needs a ruler, my lord. The elves are disorganized, for the largest group of us is now in Mirkwood, and wish to withdraw completely from the world of men. There are maybe three dozen of us here, and more in Imladris. We need, I think, to reconsider our relations with the human lands.  
  
"Indeed, you are right." Celeborn's diplomatic skills were roused after a fairly long slumber. "Have we received any messages? Envoys? Anything?"  
  
"None yet, but we have received word from Mirkwood that an envoy will be coming soon, bearing Thranduil's last words, and afterwards not even other elves will be able to find them. He or she should be here in a few days. Will you see them when they come?"  
  
"Of course. Give me a while to make myself presentable, and I will join you downstairs. Is everybody well down there?" He asked sheepishly, feeling slightly guilty about abandoning his people in time of need like that. Haldir nodded.  
  
"Life goes on as smoothly as ever. Take all the time you need, but be warned, "He allowed himself a grin, "I will come to search for you before two weeks have passed, this time."  
  
"excellent, and thank you my friend." Celeborn said warmly. He stood up, stretching stiff muscles, amazed that two whole weeks have passed. It wasn't unusual for elves to be preoccupied for long periods of time, but never without any contact at all with others. He also noticed that he was starving. My uncle, I have been struck like you, but for a very different reason. I suppose women have that effect on us. He thought wryly as he climbed down. The silence saddened him, disturbed only by the wind in the trees and he sweet, sad melody of a single flute. Lorien was nearly empty. At least, he thought ruefully, the kitchens were still working.  
  
An hour later he was washed, fed and lonely again. He missed the bond he had with Galadriel, which had been cut at some point, terribly, and he missed knowing she was there.  
  
There were a surprising number of things to do in the following weeks. Abandoned _telen_ had to be dismantled, patrols sent out to the secure the outer borders of the land, and emissaries from Greenwood and Imlardis received and consulted. Thranduil's farewell message was short and to the point, explaining that the humans in the Dale were friendly enough, but that the elves had grown self-sufficient and didn't wish to interact with the outside world again. He promised to send a report of their well-being every decade or so, and wished them well. He also added that the small community of elves in Ithilien, headed by his son, was flourishing. Celeborn detected a note of pride in those words, and smiled for the first time in weeks. 


End file.
